Surrendered
by ChooseToLive
Summary: American Idol S8. Adam/Kris, established relationship. Kris knows how to take care of Adam.


**Title:** Surrendered

**Rating:** PG

**Pairing:** Adam/Kris, established relationship

**Length:** 777

**Disclaimer:** This is a complete work of fiction. I don't know these people, and if you do, for the love of God go away.

**Author's Notes:** Inspired by, but in no way related to, the Japan Rolling Stone photo shoot. Thanks to lovetoseverus for a quick and spot-on beta, and the title!

**Summary:** Kris knows how to take care of Adam. Meaningless hurt/comfort fluff.

*.*.*

Kris was in the office, sorting through the mail, when he heard the key in the lock. He glanced at the clock; it looked like it had been a shorter-than-expected day for Adam. He quickly flipped through the last of the mail in his hands, ready to ditch it to go greet his boyfriend.

There was a soft call of "Kris?" that reached his ears. That voice was definitely not Adam's, Kris thought, and dropped the mail to walk to the front door.

"Lane?" He frowned at her; Adam's assistant didn't make it a habit to let herself into their house. "Where's Adam?"

"He's here," she said, her voice pitched low. She nodded to the side while she retrieved the keys from the lock, and Kris stepped closer. Adam was leaning against the side of the house, pale, eyes pressed tightly shut. One of Lane's hands rested on his upper arm, in support or reassurance Kris couldn't tell. "He got a migraine right before lunch."

Kris looked at her sharply as he stepped out the door. "It's nearly four."

She grimaced an apology. "They were in the middle of the photo shoot. I got him out as soon as I could. The interview got rescheduled for tomorrow."

Kris mumbled something rude under his breath, but reached out and took Adam's hand. "Hey, Adam, let's go lie down, okay?" He slid an arm around Adam's waist, careful not to jostle him, and guided him through the door.

"Thanks, Lane," Kris said, and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

"I hope he feels better soon. Call me if you need anything." And she shut the door quietly behind her.

Kris led Adam down the hall to their bedroom, careful to guide him so Adam could keep his eyes closed against the light. "Hey, here's the bed," Kris whispered, and Adam sat gingerly. Kris released him and went to the windows, pulling the blackout curtains, and then going to turn out the lights. By the time he turned back to the bed, Adam had curled up on top of the covers, head shoved against the pillows as if he'd like to be under them, but lacked the ability to get there.

Kris crouched beside the bed and traced a finger lightly over the deep creases between Adam's brows. "Do you need to puke?" he murmured, and watched Adam's face pull into a quick grimace.

"Already did."

Kris kind of hoped it was during the damn photo shoot, except Adam would be embarrassed. It wasn't fair of him to be mad, he knew; rescheduling a shoot was far more complicated than asking everyone to just return the next day. But he hated that Adam had been in pain for hours before getting respite.

"Do you want a mint?" he asked, already opening the nightstand drawer in search of some Listerine strips.

Once he'd done something to alleviate the sourness that likely lingered on Adam's tongue, Kris stood and removed Adam's shoes and belt, then began to undo the too-tight jeans that were biting cruelly into Adam's waist.

"Not tonight, honey, I have a headache," Adam mumbled, as Kris pulled down the zipper.

Kris bit back a laugh and pulled a throw over Adam's shoulders. "I'll take a rain check, then," Kris replied, dropping a gentle kiss on Adam's temple.

Adam's lips twitched in a quick smile. "Definitely."

Kris took one last look around the room, to be sure that all possible sources of light and noise were gone. He took Adam's phone and his own, silenced them, and got into bed behind Adam.

He laid his palm against the back of Adam's neck, feeling knots of tension underneath a light sheen of sweat. Rubbing gently with his thumb, he found a knot at the base of Adam's skull and pressed.

Adam gave a soft whine, and Kris dropped a kiss on Adam's shoulder, not releasing the pressure. "Shh, let me, you'll feel better," he murmured. He knew Adam's migraine wasn't caused by the tension, but relieving it would help.

When that knot had released, he moved on to the next, keeping his movements unhurried. Adam's hair was still thick and heavy with product from the shoot, and Kris was careful not to catch it as he sought out the nodes of tension. There were a lot – Kris made a mental note to book Adam a massage – but one by one, he forced them into submission.

By the time Kris could feel nothing but smooth muscle and tendon under his hands, Adam's breathing was deep and regular. Dropping a soft kiss on Adam's neck, Kris left the bed to let him sleep.

~fin


End file.
